


Five times Steve didn’t get his coffee, and one time he did

by deadto27



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barista Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Gifts, Human Disaster Steve Rogers, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Bucky Barnes, POV Steve Rogers, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29694108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadto27/pseuds/deadto27
Summary: Steve just expects a normal morning, getting coffee from his favourite place. Instead, he's floored by the new barista, makes a fool of himself, and tries desperately to win his affection with courting gifts.-----For Steve, it’s like being struck by lightning.One moment everything is the same as it always is, and the next, his world has turned upside down. It’s just visceral, his reaction. Every sense comes to life and he can’t focus on anything except the feeling that he’s just met the person he’s supposed to be with.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 69
Kudos: 261





	Five times Steve didn’t get his coffee, and one time he did

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to do a coffee shop fic. Hopefully this is funny, kinda dumb and cute 😊 Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Written for AO3. Do not repost elsewhere.

For Steve, it’s like being struck by lightning.

One moment everything is the same as it always is, and the next, his world has turned upside down. It’s just visceral, his reaction. Every sense comes to life and he can’t focus on anything except the feeling that he’s just met the person he’s supposed to be with.

In an ideal world—a world where Steve is suave and actually good at this—he would say something clever, or at the very least, just something normal. Instead, this happens…

He’s standing in the queue to get his morning coffee for his walk to work, just like always, at the same coffee shop he always goes to, aptly named _Beans_ , when the woman in front finishes her order and moves to the side. Steve steps forward, looking up from where he was fishing his wallet out of his pocket, and sees him.

_Him_ being the most beautiful thing on the planet.

He stares as the guy behind the counter meets his eye, taking in the chin-length chocolate brown silky-looking hair, the expressive big grey-blue eyes, the pouty pink lips, the most perfect nose known to mankind and the sharpest jawline ever created, and he’s pretty sure his own jaw drops.

And then the following words come out of his mouth.

“So pretty...”

The words just tumble out. Not loudly, more of an awed murmur, but it doesn’t matter. The guy still hears him.

He raises an eyebrow, a bemused look on his gorgeous, gorgeous face. “What can I get for you?” he asks.

Steve is so flustered and quickly becoming mortified as he realises what he just said, that he can’t answer. Instead, he fumbles with his wallet, dropping it, then quickly gathers it off the floor, then panics. “Um, nevermind,” he almost squeaks out, before fleeing back the way he came, almost smacking into the person behind him in his haste to get out of there.

He tries to block out the laughter he’s sure is happening behind him as he scurries out the door and down the block, finally stopping into an alleyway where he can lean against the wall for a minute.

He can’t believe he just did that. He’s already the most pathetic alpha out there and then he goes and does that.

He tries to pull himself together and slowly and sadly heads off to his job, coffeeless and mortified.

But the real problem is, he already knows he’ll be going back there tomorrow. Because he’s never in his life smelt anything as good as that omega.

****

The thing is, Steve doesn’t do things by halves. Once he sets his sights on something, he gives it his all. It’s probably his most typical alpha quality. He wishes he could have gotten the more typical muscles and strength if he’s honest, rather than being five-four and skinny, but he’s had to come to terms with what he looks like. It’s not enough to stop him at least trying, as fruitless as it may be, because the stupid thought keeps tugging at him that maybe he just met his soulmate. Or maybe he’s just that pathetic and shallow and can’t help falling for an omega who looks and smells that good. Either way, he can’t stop himself trying.

So he gets up early the next morning, putting on a blue shirt that Nat said makes his eyes pop, and his skinny jeans that Sam said make his ass pop, before pulling on his winter coat and heading for the local florist. It’s an extremely traditional gift to give as a sign of interest, but Steve’s mom taught him that sometimes old-fashioned things can be the best things, so it’s where he’ll start.

He picks up the big arrangement he ordered during work, all traditional courtship flowers, costing a mighty eighty bucks, but Steve knows the omega is worth it.

He tries not to let doubts fill his head as he heads to Beans. Not every omega wants a huge muscly alpha, he tries to convince himself. There has to be someone out there who’ll appreciate him the way he is and maybe it could be this omega. Maybe that’s why his scent called out to him, all cinnamon and warmth with a tiny bit of vanilla. Plus that’s why he’s going to try and court him. To convince the omega to give him a chance at least, to prove that he has something to offer him.

He takes a deep breath as he approaches the front door. It’s busy as it usually is in the mornings and Steve suddenly thinks maybe he should have tried this in the evening, because he didn’t mean to be a bother to the omega while he’s busy at work, but he’s here now.

He opens the door, trying to see if the omega is at the counter, but the line of people and his shortness means he can’t tell. It’s only once he gets closer to the counter that he manages to peer round to see the omega towards the other end of the counter, making drinks.

His breath gets taken away again.

Today the omega has his hair tied back in a little bun, gorgeous creamy neck exposed and unmarked for all to see, and his tongue is poking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on making a drink.

Steve’s so focused on that neck and that tongue that he of course doesn’t notice that he’s at the front of the queue and a different barista is waiting to take his order.

He tears his eyes away from the omega and looks at Wanda, the curious looking redhead beta in front of him. Steve sees her often and they have a friendly enough rapport. Today she’s staring at the giant bouquet in his hands of course, seeing as it almost dwarfs him.

“Hi, what can I get you?” she asks.

Steve gets flustered again. He was expecting the omega to be serving and now he’s not sure what to do. “Oh, um, I...a small latte please,” he says the first thing that comes to mind.

He goes through the motions of giving his name and paying, managing to hold the flowers without dropping his wallet, and then he moves to the side, realising the object of his affections is going to be making his drink. The thought of that sends a weird thrill of happiness through him.

He stands at the area where they pass drinks over, in a sort of queue again, flowers feeling like they weigh a ton in his arms.

Three other people get their drinks and then it’s his turn.

“Latte for Steve,” the omega calls out and Steve gets a little stuck on the fact that he said his name and the pretty tone of his voice, before he blinks and steps up to get the full force of those eyes on him.

“Here you go,” the omega smiles, sliding the drink across the counter.

“T-thank you,” Steve manages, not touching the drink. He looks at the guy’s uniform to see his nametag. “James,” he adds, thrilled that he has a name for him now.

James looks down at his shirt and smiles softly. “No problem. Steve,” he replies, and then he looks like he’s about to move away to get started on the next drink, so Steve panics again.

“W-wait!” he calls out, a little louder than he means to. He thrusts the flowers out, arms extended over the counter, narrowly avoiding knocking anything over. “These are for you.”

James looks surprised and Steve can feel eyes on them as he waits there holding flowers out, but he tries hard not to care about the other people in the room.

“For me?” James utters and there’s a softness to his eyes now as he takes in the bouquet with wide eyes.

Steve nods, stretching further forward, so hopeful that James will take it.

James does take it from him, thank god. Steve pulls his arms back and sees to his delight that James doesn’t look embarrassed. He’s gazing at the flowers and then he breathes in their scent.

Steve comes to realise the whole coffee shop is now looking at them. Now James has the flowers, it’s a little overwhelming as reality comes back. So he panics again.

“Um, okay, bye,” he squeaks, and then flees before James can say anything.

He practically sprints a block and then has to try to recover before he throws himself into an asthma attack, and then realises...he’s coffeeless again.

****

Steve gives it a couple of days. He doesn’t want to be overly eager, but he also doesn’t want James to think he’s lost interest. It’s a delicate balance he has to play.

Plus, he needed the time to knit the scarf.

It’s another item along the same traditional gift vein. He’d originally thought of a blanket, but that seemed like a tricky thing to give James at work, plus it would take longer, so he settled on a scarf. It has the same idea attached—that Steve wants to keep him safe and warm. Plus it’s extra thoughtful, he hopes, because he knit it himself, all those hours spent knitting with Nat when she decided to start a knitting group and needed members finally paying off.

The scarf is pretty nice, Steve thinks. He used expensive, soft but not itchy yarn and it’s a nice deep green that he thinks will contrast nicely with James’ gorgeous chocolate brown hair. He’s also been wearing it for the last hour or so, leaving his scent on it. Not too much, but enough that James will notice and hopefully be as attracted to it as Steve is to his.

It’s only as he’s once again walking to Beans that he realises he doesn’t know James’ schedule and for all he knows, he might not work on Saturdays. But he figures he’ll just have to try again a different day if he doesn’t.

The coffee shop is oddly quiet as Steve opens the door. Then he realises he never visits on weekends and the place is probably more of a workplace coffee stop, so the fewer people today makes sense. It’s also welcome, because it means fewer people around to make him nervous or see him make a fool of himself.

Because he’s already turning into a puddle of goo, because there James is, right behind the counter, this time plating up a piece of cake for someone. James looks far more delicious than the cake, hair half up, pulled away from his face.

Once the cake customer has moved on, Steve is the next and only person in line.

It feels like James’ eyes light up as they land on Steve. Steve hopes it’s not him imagining it, but he’s very aware it could just be wishful thinking.

“Um, hello,” he manages, gazing at James.

James tucks a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Hey. Steve, right?” he says with a little smile.

Steve’s going to die from just this man saying his name in that soft sweet way he does. And he remembered it! “Right, yeah, yes. I’m him. Steve. That’s me,” he bumbles.

James glances over at his colleague for a moment. “What can I get you?” he asks, turning his attention back to Steve.

“Um, a…regular cappuccino?” Steve settles on, because if he buys something, that’s more time he can legitimately spend with James.

“For here or to take away?” James asks, eyes sort of studying Steve.

“A-away.” Steve considers staying for a moment, but there’s no way he can keep himself together if he’s here for more than five minutes. He’s already failing at that now.

James grabs a takeaway cup and jots his name on the side, along with the drink order, passing it to his colleague who’s working the drinks machine. Then he turns his attention back to Steve.

It takes Steve a moment to remember.

“Oh, um,” he fumbles with the scarf that he’s holding carefully folded in his hands, tied up with a yellow ribbon. “I...this is for you.” He holds it out, trying not to shove it in his face like he sort of ended up doing with the flowers.

James’ face softens as he looks at the fabric and reaches out to take it.

“It’s a scarf,” Steve explains as James looks at it still folded.

James opens his mouth to say something, but Steve’s already talking again. “I just thought…it’s a real nice colour with your hair,” he tries to explain. “And I made it,” he adds, because he almost forgot the hopefully impressive part.

James’ eyes widen as he clutches the scarf in his hands. “You made it?”

Steve nods, a little redness coming to his cheeks. “Well, it’s almost winter,” he says, like that explains it. Then he realises, he really needs to say something more. Obviously his actions are showing that he’s interested, but he really needs to vocalise it now. He tries to steel himself. “I, um, I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he sputters out, the words running together because he says them so fast.

James looks startled and Steve’s suddenly not ready to be rejected.

So, yet again, he panics. He looks at his wrist, devoid of a watch. “Oh, I’m late,” he says nonsensically. “Bye!” He’s out the door before James can even blink.

And then as he trudges home, he realises…he just ordered a coffee and didn’t pay for it.

He comes to a standstill, dropping his head into his hands and lets out a loud groan, right there on the street.

****

Steve doesn’t go back for almost a week. It sort of takes him that long to recover from how much of an idiot he was. He misses his morning coffee on the way to work, but he misses seeing James even more.

So, somehow, he manages to put last week aside and decides to give it another shot. He can’t really seem to stop himself.

He walks into Beans on Thursday morning, next courting gift safely tucked away in a cool bag containing ice packs. He takes a deep breath and looks around as he joins the end of the queue, his heart rate picking up as his eyes find James manning the drinks machine again. He supposes he and the other baristas must switch out turns doing everything.

James has a smile on his face as he chatters to a co-worker a little, while making a drink, and Steve feels once again like he’s been sucker-punched, because no one should smile that beautifully and especially not at eight-fifteen in the morning.

The very blond guy, Pietro, takes his order this time when he gets to the front and Steve manages to calm down enough to actually order what he wants, making sure to put a large tip in the jar, feeling bad about running out last time.

Then his nerves pick up again as he heads over to stand at the other end of the counter for his drink again. Annoyingly, it’s a fairly long wait, doing nothing to help calm him down. He just waits and panics, wondering if he’s gone too traditional with this gift and if maybe it was a dumb idea and maybe—

James looks over and notices him.

Steve freezes in his fidgeting and maybe stops breathing as they make eye contact.

James looks like he has a little smile on his face, but Steve is probably imagining it. He breaks eye contact after a second, focusing on handing out a drink again and Steve goes back to fidgeting.

He’s finally pretty sure his drink will be next up, but there’s an annoying number of people waiting after him now, so he’s going to have to do this quickly.

James looks up, sliding a drink onto the counter and says his name, looking right at him.

Steve thinks he probably visibly gulps and forces his feet to move forward. “Hi, um, yes, thank you,” he babbles incoherently. Apparently it’s his new way of speaking.

“I wanted to—” James starts, voice quiet, but Steve’s nerves take over and like some sort of idiot, he just talks over him.

“This is for you,” he states, like that’s the only thing he can say these days. He lifts the bag onto the counter, but of course, _of course_ , he screws up and knocks over the coffee James just made for him.

James startles and jumps back as the brown liquid goes literally everywhere and Steve lets out a horrified squeak.

“Oh crap, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…oh crap,” he witters, grabbing napkins from the nearby holder and dropping them on the spill, where they turn entirely brown and wet, not helping whatsoever. He stands staring at them in horror.

“Don’t worry, it’s not…” James is saying something and grabbing a cloth and Steve can’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, feeling like the biggest fool on the planet. “I gotta…” He starts moving backwards as James looks up with a small frown. Of course he’s frowning, Steve just covered his counter with hot coffee that he now has to clean up and the other patrons are looking disgruntled and he probably hates Steve now.

“It’s steak!” he squawks for some unintelligible reason, and then he flees once again.

****

“You’re not being very alpha,” Sam states.

Steve has finally decided to get the advice of his friends, inviting them round for dinner, because he is failing big time at this whole wooing thing.

Nat smacks Sam on the head as she returns from putting her plate in the sink.

“Ow, Jesus woman!”

“No such thing as being very alpha,” Nat states, not apologetic at all. “Don’t listen to him.”

Steve sighs, feeling downcast. “Oh c’mon, Nat, I know you mean well but I doubt me running away all the time is making him think much of me.”

“You don’t know that,” she counters, tucking her legs up under herself as she sits on the couch. “Maybe he thinks it’s adorable?”

Steve glares at her. “I’m an alpha, I’m not supposed to be adorable.”

“Says who,” she replies, sticking out her tongue.

“Everyone,” he huffs back, rolling his eyes, with a sad little ache in his chest

“So what are you going to do?” Sam asks.

“That’s why you’re here,” Steve reminds him. “What should I do?”

“Maybe stay long enough for him to actually speak?” Nat muses.

Steve glares at her again. “Or…?”

Sam chuckles. “Or…you keep doing this until he gets a restraining order, I guess? Try chocolate next?”

Steve turns his glare on Sam and then sighs and rests his head in his hands. He should have expected to be ridiculed by these two. “You guys are no help. He probably gets tons of courting gifts anyway and I’m just wasting my time,” he says morosely, feeling defeated. “I should just give up.”

He should. He’s never going to be good enough for someone like James. That’s it. He really is giving up. Decision made.

****

Steve stands at the counter, ridiculously fancy box of chocolates in hand, as he worries about his sanity. But he just can’t seem to stop. Knows he won’t until he has a firm _no_. The tiny bit of hope in him won’t let him give up, even though he’s made a complete fool of himself.

Wanda is on the order section again. She takes a look at him and a little smile appears on her face. “What can I get you?”

Steve’s disappointed because he can’t see James at the counter, so it must be a day he doesn’t work or maybe he only does mornings. He feels himself deflate. He’d worked up to this all day at work. “Um, just a black coffee, please?” he requests.

“To take out or stay in?”

“Stay,” Steve decides sadly. He’s disappointed and he may as well let himself sit down for a little while before he heads home again. He thought doing this in the afternoon would be better, with fewer people, but really it just meant he was stressed all day long. He supposes there are fewer people though. Just wasn’t the plan that James wouldn’t be one of the few.

His order is made quickly and he takes it with him over to a table. At least he’s managed to finally actually get his coffee. He’s staring into his cup of liquid that’s as dark as his mood now, when he suddenly feels eyes on him and he looks up to see James has appeared behind the counter, looking over at him.

Their eyes meet and James smiles softly at him as Steve’s heart leaps and he sits up straighter. He’s about to gather his courage and ready himself to get up and head over there, when James starts moving, walking round the counter, heading right in his direction.

Steve feels his heart start to pound. Oh god, this is it. James is going to tell him to stop bothering him, tell him there’s no chance in hell.

“Hi, Steve,” he smiles, looking bemused like he often seems to around Steve, as he stops next to his table.

Steve shuffles in his chair. “Um, hi, good morning, I mean afternoon, um…I mean, hello.”

“Mind if I join you?” James asks, gesturing at the other chair, apparently not put off by Steve’s fumbling words.

Steve’s eyes widen and he waves his hand a little erratically. “Yes, yeah, I mean, no, I don’t mind.” Oh my god, he’s actually going to sit with him.

James presses his lips together like he’s trying not to smile as he sits down.

They’ve never been this close before. His scent is so intoxicating this close that Steve can barely think. He smells so much like home, Steve can’t even begin to understand it. He knows he’s sending out waves of want back and he should be embarrassed, but he doesn’t have enough brain capacity right now to think about that. That kind of works in his favour, because at least he doesn’t blurt words out over James speaking this time.

“I wanted to thank you,” James starts.

Here it comes, Steve realises with sadness. _Thank you, but I’m not interested_. At least it will be a polite rejection.

“For the flowers and the scarf,” James continues. “They were both beautiful.” Then he looks a little bemused. “The steak was nice too,” he adds.

Steve waits for the next rejection sentence, except James stops talking. Steve blinks at him, waiting, while James smiles softly. Steve realises he needs to say something, but he’s very confused about what’s going on. “I, um, I’m not traditional generally,” he blurts out. “But, I, um, I was taught about traditional courting gifts and I’ve always thought they’re nice, even if some are a bit old fashioned these days. I-I’m glad you liked them.”

James is still smiling. “It was very sweet.” He pushes his hair back, looking almost shy. “Alphas sometimes try to get my attention, but usually by showing off or just being inappropriate. I don’t often get courting gifts,” he admits.

Steve can’t believe that. “That can’t be true. You must get at least one a day,” he exclaims in disbelief.

James looks surprised and then almost shy, looking down at the table before looking back at Steve. “Not all alphas are thoughtful like you.”

_T-thoughtful?_ James thinks he’s thoughtful? Steve sits there stunned. He suddenly remembers the gift on his lap and lifts it up in one jerky motion, startling James a little. “These are for you too,” he states, holding them out.

James’ sweet smile comes back as he takes them. “Thank you.” He looks at the box and then at Steve, an almost teasing look on his face. “You’re not going to run out again now, are you?”

Steve freezes a little. “I…I’ll try not to,” he tries to joke, before crumpling apologetically. “I’m sorry, I know I’m not much of an alpha, physically or…otherwise.”

A little sad look comes over James’ face. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” he says. “I’m not much of an omega either,” he whispers, a kind little smile on his face now.

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that.

James looks a little downcast at the lack of response. “Are you ever going to ask?” he murmurs.

“A-ask?” Steve sputters.

“For a date?” James clarifies.

Steve’s eyes widen. He’d never actually thought that far ahead. It seemed much too unlikely that he’d even need to. “Seriously?”

James looks a little unsure now. “I-I thought that’s what you…Um, okay, nevermind.” He starts to stand, taking the chocolates with him, Steve notices.

“No, wait!” Steve practically leaps out his chair. “Yes, I…a date, I mean…” He takes a breath and straightens up. “I would be honoured to take you to dinner, James, if you’d have me,” he manages, trying to keep his voice strong. He actually surprises himself, because he thinks he manages it.

The little smile returns to James’ face. “Bucky,” he says. “That’s what anyone I like calls me,” he explains at the look of confusion on Steve’s face.

Steve feels flustered. “Y-you like me?”

James looks amused again. “Must do,” he says, turning to go back to the counter. “Pick me up here tomorrow after closing?” he calls back sweetly.

Steve nods furiously, still wondering what just happened. “I will,” he calls back a little too loudly. People are looking at them, but he doesn’t care. “Bucky,” he adds, a giant smile on his face.

Bucky smiles that little bemused smile, as Steve gazes at him and attempts to make a graceful exit, but instead backs into a table, making someone’s coffee slosh over the edge of their cup.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he apologises, glancing at them but then back at Bucky to see he’s got a sparkle in his eyes, like he finds Steve’s antics highly amusing.

Steve knows he’s a mess, but right then he can’t seem to really care.

He has a _date_.

Of course, once he gets home, he realises…he never did drink his coffee.

****

Bucky’s wearing the scarf. He’s wearing the scarf like he likes it. Like he was telling the truth and not just trying to spare Steve’s feelings. And it looks so good on him. Steve was right about the colour looking good with his hair. And Steve can’t stop thinking about how it’s all wrapped up around Bucky’s neck and will be smelling deliciously of him and…

Oh. He’s staring. Bucky’s been saying something and he’s just been staring.

Bucky’s looking at him with that bemused expression again as he closes the door to the shop behind him, pulling on the sleeve of his jacket. Now he’s looking expectantly at him. “So…um, where are we going?”

“You look amazing!” Steve blurts, butterflies swarming in his stomach.

Bucky’s face turns surprised and he looks down a little shyly. “Is it okay?” he asks, glancing up. “I didn’t know what sort of place you were taking me to, so I went with kind of smart casual.”

He’s in dark jeans with a smart jacket over the top of what looks like a grey sweater. Honestly, Steve hadn’t noticed further than his gorgeous face and the scarf, but the outfit is great too. Classy and beautiful, just like Bucky.

“You’re perfect,” Steve replies, his own eyes widening as he hears the words from his mouth. “I mean, the o-outfit, it-it’s great!”

Bucky smiles sweetly, looking down for a moment again. “You look really nice too,” he offers.

Steve only tried on his entire wardrobe before he left. For some reason he ended up in a purple shirt with blue slacks and mismatched socks, probably because he suddenly realised he was going to be late and panicked. He figured being late was a far worse offence than being dressed badly. He at least remembered to grab his tan coat, so it covers the gaudy shirt a little. Or at least it will until they get to the restaurant. It’s nice of Bucky to be kind and pretend he doesn’t look like a mess.

“I, uh, was running a little late,” he apologies, looking down for a moment. “ I, um, I booked an Italian place,” he states. “Is that okay? I mean, do you like—”

“That’s fine with me,” Bucky smiles.

Steve lets out a breath of relief. “Oh good. It’s only a few blocks, I thought maybe we could walk?” It’s pretty cold, but he thought maybe it would be nice to walk together, hopefully help him settle a little before they get to the restaurant and have other people around.

Bucky nods, putting his hands in his pockets, and falls into step beside Steve as he starts off.

Steve keeps sneaking glances at him as they walk. Now they’re next to each other it’s even more obvious that Bucky is taller than him by a good three inches. He also has absolutely the most gorgeous profile Steve’s ever seen and he smells so, so good, even out here where the wind carries his scent away.

“So, Steve, what do you do?”

Steve blinks as Bucky’s head turns to look at him, remembering the whole point of this is to be talking and getting to know Bucky better, not just staring at him. “Oh, I uh, I work at a comic book company.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “That’s so cool. Do you work on the books themselves or…?”

Steve swipes his hair out of his face, a little flustered about talking about himself. “Yeah, I um, I’m one of the illustrators.”

“No way!” Bucky exclaims, his face lighting up. “That’s amazing. Do you love it?”

“I do,” Steve confirms. “I was always kind of arty, I guess, so I’m very lucky I get to do it for a living.”

“Do you work on anything I might know of?”

“I guess that depends how big a secret nerd you are?” Steve chuckles and Bucky grins back at him. “I’ve been working on a series called _Captain Marvel_ for the last three years.”

Bucky’s eyes widen again. “No way! Aren’t they making that into a movie?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, it’s kinda cool. I mean, I don’t have anything to do with that, but still…” He pauses as he sees a pharmacy up ahead and he remembers something and stops for a moment, Bucky stopping too.

“Um, I’m really sorry, but do you mind if I just stop off here?” he asks apologetically. “I ran out of allergy medication,” he explains and then wishes he didn’t, because once again he’s not being very alpha. But the fact is, he is allergic to a whole bunch of foods and no matter how careful a restaurant says it will be—even the places that know him—it’s always best for him to have meds with him just in case. Being taken to the emergency room on their first date is definitely not how Steve wants this to go.

Bucky nods understandingly. “Oh sure, of course.”

“I’ll be one second,” Steve promises apologetically.

“I’ll wait here,” Bucky agrees with a kind smile.

Steve does his best to be in and out, but the line is a little long. He feels terrible for leaving Bucky waiting, and hopes he hasn’t annoyed him too much as he rushes to pay.

He’s feeling very flustered as he gets outside again. “Sorry I kept you waiting, there was a line,” he apologises profusely.

“It’s really fine,” Bucky tells him, but then he shivers a little.

Steve’s face falls. “Oh shit, you’re cold.”

Bucky shakes his head even as he dances about on his feet a little, like he’s trying to stay warm. “It’s fine. Shoulda worn a warmer jacket,” he shrugs.

Steve’s already shrugging his coat off and holding it out to the omega. “Here.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t, you’ll get cold,” Bucky protests, eyes going wide.

“I’ll be fine,” Steve protests back, even though he’s already feeling it. But they don’t have far to go now and he can’t stand the idea that he made his date wait in the cold for him and practically froze him to death.

“No really, I—”

Steve doesn’t really know what comes over him, except the thought that the omega is cold and he has to fix it, as he reaches up and drapes the coat over Bucky’s shoulders, having had the quick and sad realisation that his coat would probably not fit him properly, but at least this is something.

Bucky swallows and stares at Steve as they’re suddenly right up close together.

Steve inhales his gorgeous warm scent, making his head spin a little, and then realises he’s still touching the coat where Bucky’s arms are and he quickly moves his hands and steps back, a little overwhelmed.

“Um, thank you,” Bucky utters, pulling the coat closer together in front.

Steve is having trouble breathing. It was one thing seeing Bucky in the scarf, in the gift he made for him. It’s quite another to see him in his clothes. He suppresses the urge to growl, and is then quite certain he’s never had that urge before. He really doesn’t let his alpha instincts control him usually, but right now all he can think about is burying his face in Bucky’s neck.

He tries to breathe. “It’s only a couple more blocks,” he tells Bucky, words a little choked.

They fall back into step, Steve doing everything in his power to suppress how cold he is. As long as Bucky is warm, that’s all that matters. There’s no way he’s going to ruin this by shivering. Plus Bucky is amazing enough to distract him from the cold anyway.

“So…you only just started working at Beans?” Steve asks, figuring he should pick up where they left off.

Bucky nods. “Yeah, my friend Wanda told me they had an opening.” He shrugs. “I like it. It’s tiring, but most of my shifts are with Wanda, so it’s fun, especially when it’s quieter.”

Steve nods along. “You’re really good at it,” he blurts.

Bucky glances at him, looking bemused. Then he gently nudges Steve with his elbow. “How would you know, I don’t think you’ve actually tasted a drink I’ve made yet,” he teases.

Steve flushes bright red, both from the comment and the nudge. “Um, well I…you say the names for the drinks real clear and, um, your, um…writing on the cup is really nice…” Oh god, he should just go run into the street and end this disaster now.

But Bucky lets out a beautiful laugh, the sound making Steve’s stomach butterflies set off again, because he loves it so much.

“Thanks,” Bucky grins at him. “I’ll make sure I put that on my resume.”

Steve’s all aflutter. He tries to grin back, because it’s clear that Bucky’s not making fun of him in a mean way and that’s a nice change for him really.

“And um, you smile a lot and that makes people feel welcome,” Steve continues for some reason, “…and you were really kind to this idiot who kept bringing you things and running away,” he adds sheepishly.

Bucky smiles, a soft look in his eyes. “Oh I don’t know, I think if he’d been an idiot I would have told him to get lost. And it was easy to be kind to someone so sweet.”

Steve thinks he visibly gulps. Sweet isn’t usually a word associated with alphas, but he’ll take it. By god, he’ll take it. He’s all flustered again, trying to think of how to respond when he realises they’re at their destination.

“Oh. Um, we’re here,” he announces, stopping and looking at the restaurant door. It could do with repainting, and the sign looks like it hasn’t been changed since the place opened in the sixties. It doesn’t look very impressive, but he goes here quite a lot and the food is great and the people are nice. But maybe he should have taken Bucky somewhere fancier? He chances a look at the omega to find him smiling, not looking put off in the slightest at the worn frontage.

Steve pulls open the door and holds it for Bucky. “After you.”

Bucky steps through, Steve following, and as soon as Hope sees him, she beams and heads over to them.

“Steve!” she exclaims. “How are you doing? Table for two?” she asks, eyes surreptitiously sliding over Bucky.

Steve smiles back, pleased to see her. Hope has always been kind to him. “Yeah, I actually, I booked.”

Hope eyes the lined notebook in front of her. “So you did,” she grins, checking it off and grabbing two menus. She leads them to their table, over away from the door, in the corner, with its red tablecloth and candlestick in the middle, stuck into an old wine bottle for rustic effect. “Best table in the house!” she exclaims. “I’ll leave you to look those over and someone will be over to take your drinks order in a sec.” She smiles brightly at them and then heads off.

Bucky carefully takes Steve’s coat off his shoulders and passes it to him. “Thanks for that,” he smiles.

Steve manages a smile back. “You’re welcome.” He drapes the coat over the back of his chair, desperately trying to not sniff it in the process, as Bucky does the same with his own jacket and the scarf before sitting across from Steve.

“So do you come here a lot?” Bucky asks. “They seem to know you?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, I’m pretty much a regular. The food is really great.”

Bucky picks up the menu to have a look.

“Did you want to maybe share something?” he asks after a few moments. “They have this whole sharing section,” he points out.

Steve forgot about that section, seeing as he’s usually here alone or occasionally with Sam or Nat when they’re free, but they always want different things. “Oh, um, yeah we could do that,” he agrees, a little worried, but trying to not seem it.

“Cool, how do you feel about the Padana?” Bucky asks, eyes still on the menu.

Steve reads it quickly. “Oh, um, I’m allergic to goat’s cheese,” he admits reluctantly.

Bucky looks up for a moment. “Oh, okay. What about the Pollo Forza?” he offers after a moment of perusing the menu again.

Steve reads that one too and feels a pit in his stomach. “Oh, um, I’m actually not good with chillies.” God, he’s pathetic. He wonders how long this game of _what Steve can’t eat_ might go on as he humiliates himself in front of the most gorgeous person on the planet.

But Bucky replies in the same relaxed tone. “That’s cool, my sister really hates spicy stuff too.” He scans the menu a little more. “Would it be better if you pick something you like? I eat pretty much anything.”

Steve sort of wants to fall on his knees and beg Bucky to mate with him in that moment, because he’s so damn kind about it and not making it a big deal. It’s incredibly generous and sweet of him.

Still, he tries to stay cool. “I, uh, yeah. Um, how about the Barbacoa?” He really loves just the regular Margarita, but he doesn’t want to seem boring.

Bucky reads and then nods. “Sounds great,” he smiles over contentedly at Steve. “Now are you a garlic bread or a dough ball kind of person?” he asks with a grin. “And bear in mind there _is_ a wrong answer.”

Steve feels himself relax again and finds himself grinning back. “I’m pretty sure the only answer to that is both.”

Bucky lets out another delightful laugh that sets Steve’s heart aflutter again, because _he_ made that beautiful sound happen. “I’m with you on that,” he agrees, looking at Steve with an amused and sweet look on his face.

“Ready for drinks?” Their waiter interrupting them draws Steve’s gaze away from Bucky. “How you doing, Steve?”

“Hey, Scott,” Steve smiles up at him, happy to see a friendly face. It was part of why he picked here—he felt that he’d be more comfortable and relaxed. “I’m good, I think we’re ready to order food as well?” he suggests, glancing over at Bucky who nods his agreement.

They put in their food and drink orders with Scott, who gives Steve a big grin as he walks away, clearly surprised to see him with a date but apparently pleased for him, and then they’re alone again.

Steve tries to think of a good topic of conversation, now he doesn’t have the menu to use as a buffer, but Bucky gets there first.

“So…do you live nearby to Beans or is it nearer your work?”

Steve’s glad Bucky’s better at this than him. “Oh, yeah, I live a couple of blocks away. I like to grab a coffee and then I walk to work. Our office is down in Dumbo, so I’m pretty lucky I don’t have to get the subway every day. It’s a long walk, but it’s good to get some exercise.” He doesn’t point out that walking is pretty much the only exercise he can do without dying.

“That’s the same for me,” Bucky enthuses. “I’m over in Park Slope, so I can walk to work in like twenty minutes.”

That sort of sets them off talking about Brooklyn and Steve finds that Bucky is even greater than he thought he was, because he makes Steve feel at ease and it’s easy to talk to him, even if Steve does sometimes get flustered when Bucky smiles at him.

By the time the pizza is gone and they’re both too full for dessert, Steve thinks this has gone so much better than he expected. He realises they’ve been in the restaurant for a good three hours, so that must mean Bucky hasn’t hated the date either, right?

Hope brings them to bill over and Steve snags it, insisting on paying it. It’s another traditional courting thing that he can’t help wanting to do, probably because at a some dumb base level it shows that he can afford to take care of the omega, even though the rational part of him is sure Bucky can manage that himself just fine.

It has the unexpected bonus that Bucky thanks him profusely and gets a little blushy, which just about kills Steve. For a moment he gets lost staring at that pretty pink colour on his cheeks, lifting his hand to pass his card over to Hope without paying attention.

Bucky’s gazing back at him and it’s magical.

And then…

“Oh fuck, Steve, you’re on fire!” Bucky bursts out, and Steve blinks and then looks at his arm and holy shit, he’s actually on fire…

Steve’s brain kicks into gear and he jerks back from where the candle has set his sleeve alight, grabbing his used napkin to pat it out as Bucky and Hope rush to help.

“It’s okay, it’s out,” he tries to reassure them breathlessly, as he thanks god they have cloth napkins here that apparently aren’t flammable, moving it to see his sleeve now has a singed hole in it, but luckily his skin just looks a little pink.

“Oh god, don’t scare me like that!” Hope protests, hand clutching her chest. “I’ll grab you some ice,” she says, running off before Steve can stop her.

And then he feels a gentle touch to his hand and Bucky’s holding it, pulling his arm gently towards him, inspecting the sleeve, and Steve forgets Hope even exists. “Are you okay? You didn’t get burnt?” he asks softly, big wide eyes looking troubled and concerned.

Steve can’t believe that concern is for him. He swallows, too enamoured with how gently Bucky’s holding his hand. His skin is so soft. “N-no, I-I’m good, it didn’t get me. Just the shirt,” he half smiles. “And, well, that’s no great loss,” he jokes.

Bucky’s fingers move to ever so lightly touch his skin through the burnt hole. “Thank god,” he smiles softly.

Hope returns with ice wrapped up in another napkin. “Here, put this on there.”

Steve waves his hand, Bucky releasing his other one. “I’m fine really, I promise,” he protests. He moves to show Hope his arm so she can see for herself.

She seems to relax a little. “Are you sure?”

“Promise.”

She lets out a breath. “Okay. God, those candles are a hazard! Can I get you both dessert on the house as an apology?” she offers kindly.

Steve waves her off. “I think _I’m_ the hazard,” he huffs, glancing at Bucky to see him hiding a smile.

“Are you sure?”

Steve nods. “Really, thank you. It was my fault.” He looks at Bucky again. “We were just getting going anyway.”

Bucky nods and they gather their things, and then with a goodbye to Hope, they head out into the night, where Steve can finally bask in his humiliation. Why do these things happen to him? The night had been going well, he thought, and now he’s just reminded the omega what an idiot he is. Who sets themselves on fire with a candle?!

Still, as they step into the cold night air, Steve instantly offers his coat to Bucky, having not even bothered to put it on yet, because he can’t help himself.

Bucky shakes his head. “I couldn’t. You’ll get cold and you’ve got much farther to go than I do, plus then you’ll be coatless tomorrow.”

Steve furrows his brow a little. It _is_ his only really warm coat, but he still doesn’t want Bucky to be cold.

“I could walk you home?” he offers, with a hopeful look on his face. “That way I can take it back once you’re there.”

Bucky seems to study him for a moment. “How about this?” he muses. “You put your coat on…” He stops and looks at Steve expectantly.

Steve stands waiting for a moment until Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Oh,” Steve utters, finally getting it and putting his coat on, wondering if Bucky’s about to send him home.

Bucky smiles. “Okay, and then you can walk me home and help keep me warm on the way.” He moves as he talks, coming up to Steve’s side and gently taking his hand, guiding him to wrap his arm around his waist.

Steve might choke a little. He feels his fingers shake a little as he tries to grasp onto Bucky’s side very gently. “O-okay,” Steve utters, words shaky as Bucky sort of leans into him a little.

Bucky starts walking, so Steve does too, and while he knows an arm round the waist isn’t really going to help keep Bucky much warmer and he still wishes the omega would have taken his coat again, he’s also extremely happy to get to touch Bucky. He can also smell him more this close up and it’s glorious. He makes Steve want to rub himself all over him. Plus, this must mean Bucky doesn’t think he’s a complete idiot? Maybe?

Bucky asks him more about his work as they walk, so Steve tries to focus on words instead of how good Bucky feels so close next to him. He doesn’t notice if other people are looking at them and judging if he’s alpha enough for the omega. He barely notices anything except Bucky, feeling a little like he’s floating down the street, fire incident pushed out of his mind quickly.

When they reach Bucky’s building and Bucky comes to a stop, Steve wishes he lived another hundred miles away, so they could keep walking like this. He feels a sense of loss as Bucky moves away from him, so they can face each other at the bottom of his steps.

“Well, this is me,” he gestures. “Dinner was really nice…if a little dramatic,” he grins. “Thank you,” Bucky tells him again, grin turning into a soft smile.

“The company was the best part,” Steve replies, surprising himself with how smoothly he managed to say that.

Bucky blushes and tucks a stray bit of hair back. “Same here,” he murmurs, and Steve’s heart thumps in his chest. God, he’s stunning when he looks kind of shy like that.

He tries to keep himself together as the butterflies set off on a wild adventure in his stomach. “Um, maybe we could, um, do it again sometime?” he offers, then realises how lame that sounded and tries to be a bit more alpha. “I mean, it would be a privilege to take you out again, if you want to?” he adds, trying to stand a little taller too.

Bucky does that thing where he seems to study Steve for a moment. “I’d like that.”

Steve’s heart tries to leap from his chest. “You would?” He can’t stop the big smile on his face, even as he desperately tries to hold himself down and seem cool, because he’s probably blowing it right now with his rampant enthusiasm. “I mean, um, that’s great! Okay. I, um, I’ll be in touch, if that’s okay. Okay. Good,” he babbles. “Um, I’ll…I’ll see you,” he manages to add, then does a strange dorky almost bow at Bucky and then straightens up and tries to pretend he was just walking backwards as he heads away, face turning red.

“Steve!”

Bucky calling his name with a bemused look on his face stops him. “Y-yes?” Steve manages, stepping back towards him, not having gotten far.

Bucky’s looking at him, eyes sparkling like he finds Steve funny. “You didn’t say goodnight.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he sort of freezes as Bucky waits there, head tilted expectantly. He doesn’t know what to do. Maybe he should just say the words, maybe that’s all Bucky means? Or maybe a hug? Maybe Bucky will let him hug him? Oh god, maybe he’d go home smelling a little bit like him if they hugged? His coat’s already losing Bucky’s scent, it would be nice to refresh it.

Bucky holds a hand out to him.

Steve stares at it probably for a moment too long and then steps forward a little and takes it shakily and then just stands there holding it, both their arms outstretched.

“Steve,” Bucky seems to chuckle under his breath, and then he pulls and Steve stumbles forward right into Bucky’s chest.

Bucky helps steady him as Steve stares up at him and then Bucky’s hand is on his face and then he’s gently pressing their lips together.

Steve’s too stunned to do anything. He doesn’t even kiss back. He thinks his crappy heart might just finally be giving out on him, because it’s beating so fast, it’s probably about to explode.

Bucky pulls back. He looks a little disappointed, a little hurt in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I thought you…” He moves his hand and lets go of Steve’s.

Luckily, Steve’s brain kicks back into gear and realises he’s about to ruin everything. Unluckily, his brain still isn’t working at its best and instead of saying anything, he launches himself at Bucky, grabbing him probably too enthusiastically and manages to kiss him this time, bumping their noses.

Bucky seems to startle at first but then seems to melt into it. He gets his hands on Steve’s waist and back, as Steve boldly captures Bucky’s face in his hands, stretching on his toes to reach.

They break apart to breathe, Bucky staring down at him as Steve tries to comprehend the perfect feeling that was Bucky’s lips on his and how it feels like his scent is enveloping him, both comforting and electrifying and altogether magical.

“…Goodnight,” Steve utters, brain cells all taken up with thoughts of kissing Bucky.

Bucky breaks into a little smile, looking pretty amused as he meets Steve’s eyes, and Steve has the startling thought that he’d be pretty happy if they were the only eyes he saw for the rest of his life. He feels starstruck by them.

He stares at Bucky in wonder, an amazed smile on his lips.

Bucky smiles right back. “Hey, Steve,” he murmurs, amused eyes sparkling. “Do you want to come up for some coffee?”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make me smile and that's a gift you can give me 😁💜


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